


Beware the Phantom of the Opera

by JenJo



Series: Black 13 [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Phantom of the Opera Fusion, F/F, NatSharon week 2k16
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8526748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenJo/pseuds/JenJo
Summary: Chorus girl Natasha Romanoff gets the chance of a lifetime when a freak accident allows her to take the lead role in her Opera company's latest production.Of course, the freak accident wasn't so much an accident, as much as it was part of a plan.A NatSharon Phantom of the Opera retelling





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part of NatSharon week- day 2- alternate universe.  
> Then it grew into what you see.  
> Featuring:  
> Natasha as Christine  
> Sharon as Raoul  
> And many other surprises!  
> (Especially the identity of the Phantom, which I have not yet figured out)

“Yelena! Yelena! Beautiful as always!”

Yelena smiled at the applause, before storming over to the conductor. “Do you think you can get the timing right next time? We perform tonight, and  _ still  _  you cannot count the beat!”

Before the conductor could answer, Yelena threw her hands above her head. “This is unacceptable! Unacceptable!”

“Gentlemen, follow me please,” Monsieur Fury strode onto the stage, leading two other men. “Company! I have an announcement to make.” Monsieur Fury waited until he had everyone’s attention, which never took long. “Now, for several weeks now there have been rumours of my retirement. I am happy to report that they are all true.” The company began to talk; Monsieur Fury held up a hand, and they fell silent. “Now, it will be business as usual. May I present your new managers, Monsieur Stark, and Monsieur Rhodes.”

Stark stepped forward, waving to the company. “Hello everyone. And please, call me Tony.”

Yelena walked up to Tony. “So, you are the one I talk to to get rid of the conductor?”

“Excuse me?”

Yelena laughed, before walking away. “I am leaving!”

Tony turned to Monsieur Fury, who waved towards Yelena. “Yelena Belova, company star for five seasons. Best to go grovel.”

“Madame Belova!” Tony ran after her, getting in front of her. “Please, would you do us the favour of performing for us?”

Yelena looked Tony up and down. “Perform? What can I perform, when your conductor can’t get the company songs right?”

“Do you not,” Monsieur Rhodes came over, stepping in for Tony. “Have a rather fetching aria in act three?”

Yelena nodded at that, considering. “Yes, I do.”

“So, perhaps as a personal favour?”

Yelena nodded. “If my manager's command.”

“Maestro?” Tony called out as Monsieur Rhodes led Yelena back to the centre of the stage.

“If my diva commands.”

“I do.” Yelena nodded, holding her arms out and waiting for the music. Once it began, Tony and Rhodey did their best not to wince. Yes, this Yelena had talent. But was she the most enjoyable of singers? Maybe not.

By the way the rest of the company reacted, this was a commonly held view.

Unfortunately, Yelena’s aria was cut short when a curtain dropped onto her, knocking her to the floor. Tony and Rhodey rushed forward to help her up.

“Please, these things do happen,” Tony said, hoping to placate the woman. She shook her head, pushing the two men away.

“For five years these things do happen,” Yelena shook her head again, walking away from the stage. “Your little phantom! No more! I am leaving. Alexei!”

A man came running out of the company, pausing in front of Tony and Rhodey. “Amateurs,” he shook his head, before chasing after Yelena.

“What do we do?” Tony turned to Monsieur Fury, who had disappeared. “Slippery bastard.”

“We will have to refund,” Rhodey muttered, shaking his head. “And a full house too.”

“That will not be necessary.”

Tony and Rhodey jumped, turning around to see a woman dressed in black.

“Madame Hill, ballet master,” Madame Hill nodded at the gentlemen. “And a refund is unnecessary. We have another who can fill Madame Belova’s shoes.” Madame Hill tapped her cane, and a red haired girl ran forward. “She will sing for you.”

“A chorus girl?” Rhodey shook his head. “We are doomed.”

“Do not judge her until you hear her,” Madame Hill cautioned.

Tony narrowed his eyes at the girl. “Who taught you?”

She turned to Madame Hill, before looking at Tony. “I do not Monsieur.”

“Great, great. This is great,” Tony shook his head, when Madame Hill tapped her cane again. Silence fell.

“She will sing.”

Tony nodded, waving a hand. “Very well. Maestro!”

Everyone stepped back from the girl.

“She looks nervous,” Tony muttered to Rhodey.

“Let’s wait and see.”

When the girl began, her nerves were clear. Her notes weren’t clear, her voice was below average. Tony was ready to call it, when Madame Hill tapped her cane. Suddenly, the girl was singing better than anyone Tony had ever heard.

“Beautiful!” Tony applauded, stepping forward to talk to the girl. She still looked nervous, but the smile was clear on her face. “What is the name of our new star?”

“Natasha Romanoff, sir.”

Tony shook his head. “No need to call me sir.  _ You  _ are our star! You ready to step forward tonight?”

Natasha nodded, before looking over to Rhodey. “Who is your partner talking to?”

Tony looked over his shoulder. “Our Patron, Madame Carter.”

Natasha’s eyes widened,  _ it is her _ . Before Natasha could say a word, Madame Carter walked past, and out of the room.

“She will be there tonight,” Rhodey said, coming over. “How is our newest star?”

“She requires her rest,” Madame Hill came over, looking at Natasha. “Go get ready. I will be by shortly.”

Natasha bowed, before leaving.

 

\\\\\\\\\

 

The performance went off without a hitch. Afterwards, Natasha was told that she could use Yelena’s old change room.

It was strange, entering Yelena’s change room. It was huge; the size that the ballerinas shared, and then some. She stood in awe, staring.

“You really should get your hair out.”

Natasha shook her head when Clint dropped out of a vent. “You should stop crawling around the vents. What will your mother say when you ruin your outfit?”

Clint looked down at his outfit, which had no dust on it. “I don’t think she’ll know. But on to the important questions,” Clint came over, putting an arm around Natasha’s shoulders. “Where on earth did you learn to sing like that?”

Natasha shook her head, smiling as she went to sit at Yelena’s…  _ her  _ dressing table.

“Nowhere on earth,” Natasha smiled at Clint’s confusion. “An  _ angel  _ has taught me.”

“Amazing. Care to teach me?” Clint lent back against the dressing table, smiling at Natasha. Natasha shook her head, so Clint dropped the subject.  “Would you like me to do your hair?”

Natasha nodded, smiling as Clint began taking out the (rather insane) amount of clips in her hair. 

“Okay, on to the more important question.” Natasha raised an eyebrow at Clint in the mirror when he didn’t continue. “Sorry, that was a complicated bit. Now, who was that blonde that caught your eye?”

“What blonde who caught my eye?” Natasha smiled, but knew that Clint knew her too well to fall for that. “Okay. We were… childhood sweethearts, you could say.”

“What happened?” Clint asked as he began pinning her hair back for bed.

“Life,” Natasha smiled sadly; Clint nodded, before changing topics.

“So, there’s a rumour floating around about our new managers.”

“Already?”   
“Yeah. Apparently they’re more than friends, if you catch my meaning.”

Natasha laughed. “I think so.”

“Good,” Clint nodded, putting the finishing touches on her hair, before he waved his hands in a flourish. “Tadaa!”

“Beautiful,” she smiled, turning to give him a hug. “Thank you.”

“Yes, it is beautiful.”

Clint and Natasha stood up straight at Madame Hill’s voice. She looked at Clint.

“Do you not have somewhere you are meant to be?”

Clint smiled sheepishly, bowing in apology before leaving. Madame Hill stepped forward, presenting Natasha with a red rose. A black ribbon was tied around it. 

“They were pleased with your performance,” was all Madame Hill said, before leaving the room.

Natasha picked up the rose, starring at it. She could almost hear something, in the back of her mind the longer she stared at it.

“Please tell me you have not lost your red scarf.”

Natasha frowned, putting down the rose. She wasn’t to have any visitors; who was entering her room?  _ And why was their voice so familiar? _

“Especially after all the trouble I went to retrieving it for you, my little spider.”

Natasha turned, and jumped out of her chair and into Sharon’s arms. “Sharon!” She cried, hugging the woman tightly. “Oh how I have missed you!”

“And I you,” Sharon kissed Natasha’s cheek, putting her down. She looked Natasha up and down. “Beautiful even in your night gown. You were spectacular this evening.”

Natasha smiled, looking down at her gown. “Always the charmer, Sharon. What brings you here?”

Sharon raised an eyebrow at Natasha. “I am the new patron.”

“Of course,” Natasha nodded. “I recall. You ignored me earlier today.”

“Earlier…” Sharon trailed off, thinking back. “You were in the chorus? I apologise, I did not see you. I was more concerned with watching after the managers.”

“You know, there is a rumour that they are  _ together _ ,” Natasha stage whispered, smile on her face. Sharon considered this, before nodding.

“Yes, I can see that. It certainly gives certain events some context.” Sharon reached out to hold Natasha’s cheek. “I have missed you.”

“Picnics at the beach,” Natasha sighed, smiling at the memory.

“Picnics in the attic.”

“My father and his violin.”

“Reading those horror stories.”

Sharon and Natasha laughed; those ‘horror’ stories were terrifying to a pair of eight year olds. Natasha had re-read them in recent years, and they just didn’t hold the same terror as they once did.

“Your father must be very proud of you.”

“I would hope so,” Natasha sighed, turning away to sit at her dressing table. She wiped at her eyes, looking at Sharon in the reflection of her mirror. “He died seven years ago.”

“Natasha,” Sharon stepped forward, putting her hands on Natasha’s shoulders. She leant down to kiss her head. “I am so sorry.”

“Just after your family left for the winter.”

Sharon nodded. “I asked why you were not at the house the next summer; I was told that you had moved away.”

“Without my father, I was an orphan,” Natasha reached up, holding Sharon’s hands. “My father was friends with the Ballet instructor here, and had arranged for me to come and live here. For seven years, I have been a ballerina.”

“And the singing?”

Natasha looked down, a smile on her face. “I have had a new tutor recently.”

“Well, they are certainly to be commended. Now,” Sharon stepped to the side, smiling at Natasha. “We shall go to supper! Change into warmer clothes, I am taking you out.”

“Sharon, I cannot. The Angel is very strict.”

Sharon waved her off, walking to the door. “I promise not to keep you out late. Five minutes, my little spider.”

Sharon watched the door close, before looking to her mirror. “I can’t Natasha.”

_ “What arrogance.” _

Natasha pushed her chair back, her hands beginning to shake at the voice. “It was not her fault; how can she understand?”

_ “Arrogance is an inherent trait. You are  _ my  _ angel, are you not?” _

Natasha nodded, hands still shaking against the table. “Yes. Yes I am.”

_ “And you sing for me?” _

“Of course,” Natasha closed her eyes, the voice filling her mind.

_ “Then let me show you everything. Stand up.” _

Natasha stood, and her dressing table moved to the side, revealing a hidden corridor. A hand came out of the darkness; Natasha was drawn to it, reaching out to follow the hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, let me know what you think


End file.
